


The Spaces Between Seconds (Version Two)

by sixfarthingsless



Series: In Between Seconds [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:58:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixfarthingsless/pseuds/sixfarthingsless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know that's what people say-- you'll get over it. I'd say it, too. But I know it's not true. Oh, you'll be happy again, never fear. But you won't forget.” - Betty Smith.<br/>“Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now ... I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?” - Audrey Niffenegger.</p>
<p>Arthur left. He walked out, and left, leaving Merlin to a broken heart and an empty chest. Leaving him to loneliness and breaking every promise they'd ever made.<br/>Of course, things are a little more complicated than they seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spaces Between Seconds (Version Two)

**Author's Note:**

> Version Two. 
> 
> Edited ending. Still not happy with it, but happier than before.

> _“Wanting him to come back before anyone notices part of the world has not moved since he left”_
> 
> _“I know he’s not really gone … but the world feels much smaller today”_
> 
> _\-- Brain Andreas_

 

 

**April**

**Wednesday**

 

Merlin felt the lump in his throat as Arthur packed his bags. 

Things hadn’t been the same since Arthur’s uncle had died of a stroke six months ago but now Arthur was leaving. He wasn’t just going to Gawaine’s. Or Lance and Gwen’s. They weren’t arguing so he felt he had to escape to Morgana’s cottage in the country. 

He wasn’t visiting Leon in the Lake District. 

He was going. For good. 

  
Merlin watched the tense lines of Arthur’s shoulders, willing him to change his mind and stay. _Stay with me Arthur, please_ his mind begged. 

  
They’d met at Blackpool South Pier, in the arcades across from The Laughing Donkey, years ago when they were just thirteen; even then, Merlin knew he loved Arthur. And now, more than thirteen years later, that love had grown to possess his whole being. 

  
Merlin doubted that he could breathe without Arthur by his side. 

  
Arthur was his world. His everything. He couldn’t leave. Not like this. Merlin wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man. Two months ago they were talking about getting married - and now Arthur was leaving. 

Merlin returned from his night shift at 8am to find Arthur leaning against the kitchen cabinets, forlorn and glum. He thought Arthur may never have told him he was leaving if Merlin hadn’t tried to kiss him. Perhaps he would have left while Merlin slept, leaving a note. Perhaps he would have never left at all. 

 

Merlin blinked out of his thoughts, back to reality, as the zipper of Arthur’s duffle bag closed to. Arthur’s clothes were packed.  
 

He hoisted up the bag onto his shoulder, pausing for a second as he passed Merlin. The sound of the boot closing echoed through the house as Arthur loaded his car. 

The lump in Merlin’s throat enlarged by the second. 

The house was almost bare; just Merlin’s things dotted it haphazardly, draws open and turned out, searching for anything belonging to Arthur. 

Arthur cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his torso and leaning against the doorframe. 

 

“I’ll call you about the furniture once I’ve found somewhere. And we’ll talk about the cat,” Arthur’s eyes were as red-rimmed as Merlin’s. Neither wanted to leave, but, in Arthur’s mind, he could not stay. 

The two men stared deep into each others eyes for a while, and time seemingly stood still. Both were trying to will into each other’s brain how much they loved the other. 

Merlin begging Arthur to stay. Arthur begging Merlin to forgive him. 

“Okay,” Merlin choked out, voice strained.

 

“Morgana and Leon will be over at the weekend to pick up the boxes in the dining room,” Arthur scratched his nose, looking away. Merlin just nodded, unable to speak. Merlin looked Arthur over, forcing this image into his mind. At that moment in time, Arthur was his. And his alone. And, in that moment, and his memory, he always would be. 

Merlin felt himself shaking. This was it. This was the moment Arthur walked out the door, taking Merlin’s heart with him. 

Arthur let out a breath. 

 

“I’ll see you round, Merlin. Keep yourself safe,” Arthur gave a small smile before turning around, walking down the corridor, through the front door and to his car parked on the pathway. Merlin listened as the car sped down the street before allowing himself to fall apart. 

 

As of today, Merlin’s life was over.

 

 

**Saturday**

 

Leon unlocked the door with his spare key, Morgana following suit. 

“Merlin?” Morgana’s unsure voice echoed through the silent house. Merlin didn’t even stir from his cocoon of duvets and pillows on the settee. He didn’t want to be found, he wanted to wallow in his heartbreak and utter despair. The living room door creaked open, floorboards groaning underfoot. 

 

“Morgana! He’s in here,” Leon spoke softly, as if Merlin was an animal that would bolt at any second. To be fair, either of them knew that he wouldn’t bolt at a loud noise. Love, they say, makes us do absurd things, and heartbreak, as does time, makes fools of all. Merlin opened his mouth, ready to tell Morgana and her boyfriend to piss off back to the depths of hell from whence they came -- Morgana wouldn’t allow Merlin, or anyone, to flounder in desolation, so she would strip back the duvet and force Merlin to get over Arthur; but that never happened. 

He felt the pillow next to his head sink slightly under the weight of any extra body.

Flinching and squeezing his eyes tight, in fear of a soft blow to his head, Merlin readied himself for Morgana’s version of a ‘pep talk’. 

 

To his surprise, which made his blood run cold, her voice was gentle. 

“Merlin, are you okay?” 

 

“Leave me alone, Morgana,” Merlin mumbled, but the duvet’s made it sound more like humph-mph-hmm than the actual line. Morgana’s hand carded through his hair, comforting. This was unlike Morgana. When Merlin had his heart ‘ripped out’ by his first boyfriend at fourteen, Morgana had become vicious Mother bear and broken Valiant’s nose, then had dragged Merlin from his depression screaming. 

 

But so had Arthur and that was why Merlin’s love developed from cute-first-love to I’m-so-fucked. 

The only time Morgana had been seen to be caring was when Leon’s stepfather died two Springs ago. But death was different to love woes. 

Merlin felt Morgana shift until she was curved around his body, embracing him and pulling him towards her. 

 

“Leon, can you just give us a moment? You go and -- yeah, he’ll be okay, just, the, yeah.” Leon was obviously keeping his side of the conversation with hand gestures, as he did sometimes when words couldn’t be found. Morgana waited a few seconds until the squeaking of door hinges rang out. Leon’s footsteps faded slowly. 

Merlin felt Morgana hold him even tighter, rocking them both side to side in comfort. 

 

“Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, my poor baby, it’s alright, it’s alright,” She whispered in his ear, her voice cracking a little as she spoke. “You don’t have to be okay this time,” 

Merlin peeled back the cover slightly, allowing him to see Morgana completely. He couldn’t imagine how he looked. He’d not moved since Wednesday, not eaten or showered, he’d not needed to - but Morgana looked as if it was her who’d gone through the break-up. 

 

Dark bags underneath her eyes showed her lack of sleep and her cheek bones were more prominent than they had been on Tuesday, when they’d had lunch at Stephen’s. Her hair hadn’t received the treatment it was used to and was now pulled back into a rather ungraceful bun. She wore no makeup and her nail varnish was chipped terribly. 

Morgana must’ve thought he looked thrice as shattered. Her bottom lip began to wobble. She put her forehead to Merlin’s crown and they both cried. 

 

 

**May**

**Monday**

 

“Hello, Albion International, Merlin speaking, how can I help?” 

Merlin was a secretary/personal assistant for a law firm that was open twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. It was a law firm with its fingers in a lot of pies, really. Last year it had released a line of electronics (mostly Bluetooth handsets, GPS systems and a television that didn‘t need a remote to be used), and the year before that it had begun research into Cystic Fibrosis. 

Mostly, Merlin worked from 10.30-7.30, but occasionally he had to work bizarre hours to help meet a deadline for a settlement in Yokohama or Toledo, such as last week when Merlin, Freya, Percivale and Gwen, who was usually in Human Resources, were having to transfer documents to St Petersburg then forward calls from Tianjin to Pahoa. Merlin was even on the phone to a partner firm in Honolulu for five hours the Tuesday before, trying to placate their rage at a change in the terms and conditions of their partnership contract. 

Albion International was, in essence, the “mother ship” of more than 480 firms around the world.  
 

“Ah, Merlin, yes, I was wondering if you could put me forward to administration,” An elderly voice spoke. 

“At Albion International?” Merlin’s fingers hovered over the forward button. 

“Yes, please,” 

“Alright, thank you for calling!” Merlin pressed forward then 227, hearing the man thanking him. As soon as the phone went down, Merlin took a sip of his Earl Grey tea, as beautifully brewed by Sefa from the front desk.

Sefa, who actually had lived next door to Merlin before she started to work for Albion International, made the best tea. Although her coffee and other culinary skills were less than awful. She’d grown up with her Grandfather, who had done everything for her. But, every morning and evening, she made him a cup of tea - whatever he liked - and this was how she’d found her talent in making tea. 

Elena was the one for making amazing food; Freya for the amazing coffee; Gwen was the amazing all rounder, but her skills went unused, save for her fiancé Lancelot, and Merlin. Once in a blue moon, when her brother Elyan actually visited, he received the blessing that is Gwen’s cooking. But, unfortunately, Elyan preferred the country life than the life of the city. 

Merlin liked Sefa. She was sweet, despite the rumours of her pocketing money, and the ones that she was spilling secrets to a rival company. Gwen had heard from Eira, who worked for Gorlois & Son’s that somebody fitting her description was helping them. 

  
Being unsure, she left the gossiping to the tea and biscuit girls. 

The phone rang again. 

“Hello, Albion International, Merlin speaking, how can I help?” 

“Can you direct me to floor 17, please?” Recruitment Merlin immediately thought. 

“Please hold!” Merlin said, politely. Merlin hated the music Albion International used while people were on hold. It was worse than elevator music, which Merlin, and Arthur, loathed. 

 

At 11.17, as today was a bizarre day, Merlin took a break. He headed to the break room on floor 12, which had the best coffee machine and chairs. It even had a TV. Not that Merlin cared about the TV, no, he’d be reading Dean Koontz with his feet up, but it was just principal. 

Dragon Tears, the book, which had been recommended by Morgana, it turned out, was better than the last book he’d read. 

  
The last book, something by Ayn Rand, recommended by the library (Atlas Hugged or something like that..), he thought was boring. 

Merlin put his Captain America mug underneath the coffee machine and watched as the drink poured in. Arthur bought me this mug he thought briefly. Which lead to him thinking of what Arthur was doing right now. Wondering where he was. 

  
He’d not only ended it with Merlin, but he’d quit his job, sold his car and, according to Leon, changed his number. 

Nobody had heard from him since the day he left Merlin. 

With a sad, rueful smile, Merlin took his mug. He trudged to his favourite seat, sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him, losing himself in the book. 

“Merlin?” A voice he recognised all too well brought him out of his book induced stupor. Uther Pendragon. Arthur’s father. 

He worked in Research and Funding.

 

“Uthe- Mr Pendragon!” Merlin’s voice squeaked in surprise. 

“There’s no need for such formalities, Merlin, we are practically family, after all,” Uther grinned, sitting across from Merlin and glancing at the book in his hands. When Merlin was 13, he’d been petrified of Uther, but since Uther had been to some retreat in Tibet a few years ago, he’d become somewhat normal. The death of his wife hadn’t been easy on him. “How are you holding up?”

 

“Yeah, I’m yeah. You know. Yeah, how are you?” 

“I’m ‘you know yeah’,” Uther’s eyes were soft, staring at Merlin, through Merlin. Uther and Merlin were not incredibly close, but Merlin had spent so many weekends at Uther’s house they were practically family. “You are looking after yourself, aren’t you, Merlin?”

 

“Of course I am,” 

“You’re looking rather pale, and your friends tell me you aren’t bringing lunch to work, as you used to. In fact, they tell me you’re working through your lunch break,” 

“Uther, you know I-”

“I don’t care for your excuses, Merlin. Just because my son has gone does not give you the excuse to do this to yourself. You mean as much to me as Arthur; if I were to lose you both… well I can’t even fathom what I’d do. 

Tell me, Merlin, do you have plans for Friday evening?”

 

“Friday? Well, no,” 

“Ah, well, good, you’re to get a cab to mine at, shall we say, seven? Morgana and Leon will be joining us. You can bring Gwen, if you like. Her fiancé is more than welcome. You still like that Brut Rose, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Merlin sighed. He’d planned to spend the weekend cocooned in duvets again. 

 

“Then it’s settled! Friday, seven o’clock. In the mean time, look after yourself, alright? I can see your rib bones through your shirt, Merlin,” Uther stood, shooting Merlin another smile. He walked away, Merlin watching with a bewildered expression. Seconds after he left, he stuck his head through the door with a sad smile on his face. 

“Oh and I am looking for him. I will bring him home to you,” 

 

The next day a chicken, potato and leek pie had found it’s way onto Merlin’s desk at lunch with a note saying because I don’t believe you in Uther’s handwriting. The smiley face that accompanied the note, Merlin thought, was creepy. 

 

 

**Friday**

 

Merlin, Gwen and Lance were early. But, of course, Uther expected they would be. Gwen never did late. 

“Ah, Merlin! And Guinevere! Look at you, you look lovely! Good to see you again, Lance!” Uther said as he ushered his guests through the door. Morgana and Leon were sat in the dining room, limbs draped over one another, looking rather in love, while their son - adopted, Merlin had to remind himself - played on the floor with toy cars, seemingly uninterested in his surroundings.

  
That is, until he noticed Merlin, then with a high-pitched squeal, he threw himself as his “favourite Uncle Merlin”, as if he had more than one. 

(Mordred sat in Merlin’s lap throughout the whole night, only moving for dinner, where he sat next to him, refusing to let Merlin move at all. 

“My Uncy Murlin!” He would shout if Merlin tried to move, grabbing his arm and yanking him back down). 

“Morgana, Leon, you remember Lance, right?” Uther said as he passed through the small crowd that were exchanging nice-to-see-you’s and kisses on cheeks to fetch the wine.

“Of course! The mighty dashing Lance,” Morgana smirked, leaning over and hugging him. “Where are those wedding invites, guys? You are still engaged, right?” 

“Planning has gone a little slower than we’d hoped. We’re still short listing venue’s. We’re hoping for a March/April wedding, though,” Lance kissed her cheek and ruffled his own hair slightly. Merlin, despite his agony at being surrounded by those completely in love, and happy, couldn’t help but smile fondly. 

  
For a while, the conversation was dominated by talks of weddings - Morgana, as it happened, had been thinking about marriage a lot, recently - but it quickly turned into jokes and an amazing night. Merlin sipped his wine slowly, bouncing Mordred on his knee, who was smashing two toy cars together and making screaming noises. For one and a half years old, Mordred was pretty violent. 

 

“So, I know Uther had his motives for gathering us here, but, I just wanted to tell you guys something,” Gwen leaned forward in her seat, taking her fiancé’s hand in her own. Her grin was infectious, as per usual, and the whole table were suddenly smiling, despite not knowing the news. “I’m pregnant. Three months,” 

The whole table suddenly erupted in shouts of joy, loud “congratulations” and lots of hugs. 

  
_For every bad event_ , Merlin thought, his heart unsure what to feel,   _good must happen, too_. 

 

 

 

**June**

**Wednesday**

 

Merlin had a day off after working over night. Unsure how to spend it, he caught the 37a into town and called Morgana, who met him just after lunch with Mordred and his overnight bag. 

He took them both to The Drunken Shoemaker, and paid for Mordred to go into the little play barn, who kept shouting “LOOK AT ME!” every time he slid down the slide or climbed anything. 

Morgana had ordered a coffee and was watching Merlin carefully over the rim of the cup. Over the years, she’d learned to read Merlin’s body language. He might’ve been smiling, but he certainly wasn’t happy. 

“How are you Merlin?” Her tone of voice suggested that he better not lie to her. 

“Coping. I miss him.” Morgana put her hand over Merlin’s in comfort. She gave a small smile. This was something even she couldn’t make better. She could always make it better before. 

“We’ll find him, Merlin. I promise,”

 

“He doesn’t want to be found, Morgana. And he certainly doesn’t want me. Look, do we have to do this? I want to have a moment where people don’t look at me in pity. I don’t want to hear that we’ll find him or that you’re looking, I want us to have at least one conversation where we pretend everything is okay. I don’t want this conversation. You don’t talk like this to Gwen. Or Lance. Or Leon. You don’t have these conversations with Elena, Beatrice and Cathryn. I’ve not heard you once tell Daegal that you’re going to find Arthur, so why me?

"Why must you bring it up in every conversation? I’m doing fine without him. Why won’t you fucking let me move on? Can’t I get on with my bastarding life without mention of Arthur fucking Pendragon for just one day? That’s all I ask, one day! Can’t I have that Morgana? Jesus Christ, I’m sick of people telling me the same thing all day, every day. ‘We will find him Merlin’ ‘Merlin it’s all going to be okay’ and that look you all give me! That fucking look! I’m not fucking dying, alright? I’m a big boy, I can handle myself, alright?” Merlin hadn’t realised he was shouting, but by the time he was finished his rant, Morgana’s lips were pinched together, her eyes wide and he was panting slightly, furious all of a sudden. 

 

He just wanted to get out of here. He was itching to break something, to let out all his frustration at Arthur leaving him all alone. 

But the ranting, the ranting had done something. He suddenly no longer felt as broken as before. Maybe he was moving on. No you’re not his brain said back. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. And he was no longer angry.

  
“Feel better?” Morgana asked, eyebrow quirked, with a little smirk.

“Much.” 

 

**Thursday**

 

Mordred woke Merlin at an ungodly hour by wanting something to eat (it was only half six, but still, for his days off, it was ungodly). Merlin opened a pack of crumpets, putting them under the grill for them both, smearing his own with butter. 

“What do you want to do today, Mordred?” Merlin pulled Mordred out of the makeshift high chair that had been made of Merlin‘s cousins car seat that ended up in their possession when she stayed one weekend. 

 

“Swoo,” Mordred grinned proudly, pulling Merlin’s ear as Merlin lay him down to change his nappy. Mordred’s speech was coming along. Slowly.

“Swoo? You want to go to the park? Ouch, get off my ear. We can’t go to the park until you get off!” With one last tug, Mordred let go and allowed Merlin to change him. 

 

By nine thirty, they were ready for the day. As promised, Merlin took Mordred to the park, where he played on the swoo’s (which were swings for anybody who wasn’t a Pendragon or part of the “family”) until he demanded to go on the slides. 

 

“Aw look at you, monkey boy!” Merlin laughed as he held onto Mordred who was “climbing” up the side of the slides. 

They fed the ducks with slightly stale bread for a while, wandering around the huge pond to make sure they got all the ducks and geese.

Merlin laughed until tears when Mordred chased a flock of geese who chased him back when they realised he had bread; it was hilarious. Mordred smacked Merlin for laughing when Merlin picked him up. 

 

They took a walk through town, slowly, Mordred babbling away in baby talk and Merlin supplying the “Yeah? Oh no! Wow! Really?!”’s in the appropriate places. 

“Duck swoo, Murlin?” Mordred looked up at Merlin with a hopeful smile. 

“No, they don’t, monkey’s do, though,” 

“Munk swoo?” And he was off babbling again. 

 

Merlin found himself smiling fondly down at Mordred in his pushchair who clearly had something important to say. And funny, obviously, because in the queue in McDonald’s, the child started laughing so much it appeared he’d forgotten to breathe. 

The old woman behind them started laughing along with him before cooing over him. Mordred was, apparently, the cutest baby the lady had ever seen. Mordred had eventually stopped laughing when Merlin put him inside the borrowed high chair. 

 

Nodding his head to the music comically, Mordred ate his chicken nuggets in silence. 

 

 

 

 

**July**

**Saturday**

 

Morgana, Leon, Merlin, Gwen and Mordred had gone away for the weekend to Blackpool. Mordred, it turned out, thought he was half merman as Leon turned his back for one second to signal to Morgana that they were okay, to find that their child was trying to swim away. In a merman like fashion. When Morgana questioned him on it, over ice cream, Mordred said something about Ariel then turned to Merlin and asked him if he knew any mermaids. 

   Merlin sunbathed next to Gwen, whose brown skin would pick up a tan in the dark, with a hand over his eyes. Mordred had sat on his sunglasses, and he couldn’t find it in him to go and buy another pair from across the road. 

 

“Mordred Tristan, what are you doing?” 

Merlin lifted his arm to see Mordred picking up handfuls of sand, licking them then spitting it back out on to the floor. Laughing, he picked up his camera and snapped a picture. 

Baby’s first trip to the beach had proved eventful. 

 

“No, no, you can’t tell me Amelia doesn’t know Karl’s cheating! Look, he’s even got stains on his shirt!” Morgana exclaimed as she got ready to go out. 

Merlin and Gwen were baby sitting so Morgana and Leon could go out. They were meeting friends from University at a nearby bar, but who knew what they’d get up to after that. At that moment, Leon was dressed and out looking for after sun (Merlin had burnt terribly), and Morgana was shouting at the TV. 

 

Some film was playing on a channel Merlin had never heard of that she was getting too invested in. 

 

“If Amelia doesn’t call him on his bullshit -- Oh my God how can she believe him?” She exclaimed before coating her lips in a seductive red colour. 

Merlin smiled languidly at her, in pain from his cooked flesh. 

 

“You look nice,” Gwen remarked as she stepped out of the bathroom in her pajamas. The feint line of a bump could be seen now, but she was still pretty much flat. Merlin groaned as he sat, skin shouting out in pain. “It’s your fault, Merlin. We told you to wear sun cream, but you didn‘t listen,” 

“Does he ever listen, Gwen? ‘No I’ll be fine, I promise!’” 

 

“Hey! I don’t sound like that and of course I listen. I just didn’t think the burn would be this bad!” 

“We tried to tell you,” Leon winced as he walked in, seeing the bright red skin. He threw the after sun onto the bed, then headed straight for the bathroom to do his hair. 

If Arthur was here, he wouldn’t be the only one with sunburn, Merlin thought ruefully. It must’ve shown in his face because Morgana reached over and patted his knee, expression unreadable. 

 

Shortly after they left, Merlin allowed himself to think of Arthur completely for the first time in three months. 

 

 

Friday

 

Merlin touched himself that night, slowly, dragging everything out. He’d not had sex in a long time and now it felt amazing. 

His eyes were closed, head thrown back, remembering times with Arthur that had left him so shagged out that he hadn’t felt like he could move for hours. 

Arthur kissing him, Arthur bussing his way down Merlin’s chest to his dick, that blow job in the back of Uther’s car when they were nineteen. He remembered that time after Gaius and Alice’s wedding well. 

 

> _Needy, hot and desperate after spending a week apart from each other, Merlin and Arthur had barely closed the door behind them before ripping each other’s clothes off. Well, attempting to._
> 
> _Merlin’s trousers got stuck on his shoes, which had them both laughing, and Arthur’s shirt caught on his right wrist. Merlin guffawed into Arthur’s mouth, yanking at the shirt in hopes of dragging it off._
> 
> _It was incredibly unsexy, but when had sex between them been porn-star-perfect?_
> 
> _“It’s not coming off,” Merlin jerked at it again, chuckling._
> 
> _“Oh for heaven’s-- here,” Arthur drew back, undoing the button then lugging the shirt from his arm, throwing it behind him._
> 
> _“Was that supposed to be seductive?” Merlin asked, reaching out his arms and dragging Arthur onto his lap, kissing the soft flesh at the based of Arthur’s neck. Arthur careened his head, closing his eyes. He tangled his fingers in Merlin’s hair, giving firm tugs every time it felt good._
> 
> _“Was it seductive?” Arthur asked, breathless._
> 
> _“Oh definitely, almost had me creaming my pants,” Merlin whispered, licking the shell of Arthur’s ear. Arthur laughed, low and husky, pushing Merlin onto his back. Kissing and tonguing his way down Merlin’s chest, Arthur teased, taking his time before finally touching Merlin where he wanted to be touched._
> 
> _Merlin’s head tipped back, body arching as a single finger traced a line from base to dome. Merlin groaned, head going fuzzy from the briefest of touches. Arthur smirked, taking his hand away._
> 
> _Instinctively, Merlin grabbed for his hand to keep it in place._
> 
> _“Arthur,” Merlin spoke through gritted teeth, ready to knock Arthur out if he denied him. With a frustrating simper, Arthur licked his hand, reaching out to touch him. Arthur wrapped his hand around Merlin’s dick -- and Merlin was gone._
> 
> _He clasped the bed sheets, rutting into Arthur’s hand, his arms flying everywhere. He grasped the pillows at this head, pushing his hips further and further up, as fast as Arthur would allow. He was briefly aware of himself shouting out Arthur’s name and various commands as his orgasm neared._
> 
> _And then he felt it, the heat working its way through his body, it was coming and it would be glorious and he would feel himself floating down slowly from his blissful high. This was it, this was it he was - Arthur let go, smiling innocently._
> 
> _“Oh, you were enjoying that?” Arthur said sweetly to Merlin‘s wild expression. Oh, he was really going to get it now. Merlin pounced. He wasn’t sure that he hadn’t growled, either._
> 
> _Arthur fell backward, Merlin on top, both of them wearing fond smiles._
> 
> _“Why hello,”_
> 
> _“Hi,” Merlin whispered, kissing Arthur softly before reaching into the side drawer to pull out the lube. “Are you wanting to do the honour or shall I?” He shook the bottle a little, raising an eyebrow. Arthur took the bottle from Merlin, squirting some onto his fingers. Merlin readied himself as Arthur pushed two fingers inside him. Through the hurt, he sighed with relief._
> 
> _He needed this, he wanted this. Now._
> 
> _“Are you alright?” Arthur kissed the base of Merlin’s back, then his ear._
> 
> _“Yes, just keep going,” And Arthur did just that, adding another finger slowly. He moaned as Arthur took his fingers out and lubed his own dick. They hadn’t used condoms in years -- which saved them a of money, in Merlin’s view._
> 
> _Arthur flipped Merlin over to face him, putting Merlin’s legs over his shoulder’s._
> 
> _“Ready?”_
> 
> _“Yes just, now!”_
> 
> _Arthur thrust inside him, twice and --_

 

Merlin came hard, moaning Arthur as he had done the last time he’d had sex. He opened his eyes, vision blurry from the bliss, smiling into the dark.

 

 

**August**

**Tuesday**

 

For once, Merlin listened to the gossip in the break room, hearing that George, Mr. Kilgarrah’s personal assistant, was having an affair with Mab from Accounting. And Rowena from Human Resources. And Annis (Alined, not Caerleon as was stressed). And possibly Cedric and Radnor in IT. 

 

His wife, Finna, had found out over the weekend. He was yet to turn up into work. But his brother, Ethan, was happy to spread the gossip, of course. 

“And did you guys hear about Morgause White? Well she’s not the blushing rose she’d have you think,” Sefa ‘whispered’. 

 

“What do you mean?” Eira questioned. Freya leaned towards Sefa, completely engrossed in the story already. Beatrice asked who she was, to get told she was an ex-temp. 

“While Cenred, you know, her boyfriend, is at work, her door is open to some very interesting characters. I live across from her and I heard this moaning, I thought somebody had been hurt or something, but the guy who left -- he definitely wasn’t hurt. And it definitely wasn’t Cenred King,”

 

“Really?” Cathryn lifted a hand to her mouth. 

Merlin tuned out after that, getting lost in Sara Gruen’s Water For Elephants while sipping his tea. He knew Morgause (she was Morgana’s half sister on her mother’s side. Morgana and Arthur shared a father). He thought it was best that he didn’t mention she was a professional dominatrix and that‘s how she actually met Cenred. That would just exacerbate things. 

 

 

“Merlin, do you think this makes me look fat?” Sefa asked, practically throwing her arse in his face. She looked at him expectantly. 

“No, Sefa, you don’t look fat, who said you did?”

“No one, but look at my thighs, Merlin! Look at them!” Merlin wasn’t sure if Sefa was actually complaining or asking Merlin to check her out. 

“You’re as thin as my little finger, Sefa,” Merlin sighed, shaking his head. He was sure she was attempting to present herself in the most “innocent” of ways. Sefa sat on his desk, next to the tea she’d just put down, feeling up and down his arm slowly.

 

“Do you think I’m sexy?” She asked, attempting a sultry air. 

“You really want to know what I think?” Merlin dropped his voice to husky tone. Sefa nodded, urging him to continue. He leaned in slowly to whisper in her ear. “I think you need to get off my desk and get back to work,” 

 

With a huff, Sefa jumped off the desk, leaving without so much as a backwards glance. Of course she’d develop a crush on him once Arthur was off of the scene. Of course. 

 

 

**Friday**

 

Merlin went with Gwen for a scan, in replacement of Lance who had to go to Scotland with work. Merlin watched as the baby danced around on the screen, vaguely listening as the midwife began giving measurements and talking weight. Gwen listened intently, soaking up all the information as if it was the most important news she’d ever heard. 

 

With a few words about a birth plan, the midwife handed Gwen some blue roll to wipe off the gel from her stomach. Sitting up slightly, Gwen watched as the nurse wrote inside her booklet. Merlin tuned out slightly, unsure what to do, as the midwife and Gwen began talking babies. 

 

As a gay man, he didn’t think he’d ever have to deal with this directly. 

 

Gwen and Merlin sat in a small café around the corner from the hospital. For small and hidden from public view, it was clean and had good food, which was always a bonus. 

“My ankles are swollen. I’m only six months. Oh God, by full term I’m going to have cankles, aren’t I? Jesus I’m going to look like an elephant!” 

Merlin sniggered into his drink, shaking his head. 

 

“Gwen, you look fine. But that trunk does give you the look of an elephant,”

“Oh Merlin, you’re incredibly funny,” She laughed, stealing a chip from his plate with a sneaky smirk. Merlin lifted his fork and made to stab her hand, both of them laughing until tears streamed down their faces. Gwen sighed happily, wiping a tear from her eye. “Oh God,” She laughed again. 

 

She took a large gulp of orange juice, smiling at Merlin like a proud mother, which stopped his heart for a moment. He wondered what she was planning. 

“I have something to ask you, Emrys,” 

“Oh?”

 

“As you know, I’m getting married in April,”

“It hasn’t failed to escape my notice, yes,” He rested his chin on his hands, mirroring Gwen’s pose. 

“I want you to give me away.” 

Merlin froze, wondering if he’d heard that right. 

 

“Me? What about Elyan?” 

“He’s one of Lance’s best men. I mean, Lance even considered you, too, until I said this,”

“Of course I’ll give you away Gwen,” He hugged her over the table, truly happy for the first time in months. 

But deep in the back of his mind, he wished he had Arthur to share this happiness with. 

 

 

**September**

 

**Monday**

 

September came swiftly and brought with it Merlin’s birthday. He woke early, surprisingly, and received a 100 of his favourite flowers, and a huge box of chocolates, from an unknown sender. He didn’t recognise the Florist’s name, though. 

Hello Petal and Thistle Do Nicely were the only ones Merlin knew of, but this one, Enchanted Florist, was unknown to everybody he asked. He shrugged it off, though, thankful that he got them. 

Although, he was unsure where he could put them, running out of vases quickly. 

Gwen, Morgana, Mordred, Uther and Lance came around at three, followed by Leon and Gawain at seven. Elena popped in for an hour before having to go babysit for her sister. Sefa (and the rest of the front desk crew), accompanied by Merlin’s work friends, arrived just after eight.

“Merlin, these flowers are lovely, who got you these?” Sefa asked around a mouthful of pizza. 

“Their all his favourites, right Merlin?” Gwen questioned, throwing an arm around his waist. 

“Mhm, yes they are,” He smiled after swallowing “And I don’t know. They came this morning. The card just says ‘Happy Birthday Merlin’. Is there a new Florists around? I don’t recognise the name,” 

“Enchanted Florist? Never heard of it,” Gwen passed the card to Morgana who turned it over to read the back, which just had the name, number and an email address. 

“Looks like Merlin has a secret admirer,” Elena winked. 

 

By eleven, Morgana had found out that Enchanted Florist was in Lincoln. Which was a long way away from London. 

“Somebody sent you a hundred of your favourite flowers. From Lincoln. 157 miles away.  Who do you know in Lincoln?” She tapped the card on the table. Everybody stared at it as if it had walked into the room, kicked Mordred in the face and offended every single one of them. Merlin tapped his chin in thought, something Arthur would have smirked at. Merlin had picked it up from him in the first place.

“Nobody,”

“So you have a stalker?” Gwen raised her eyebrow. 

“Look, Sherlock, Watson, can’t we just leave it that I have a secret admirer? Do we have to complicate everything?” Merlin pleaded. Disgruntled, Morgana handed back the card, muttering something about her wanting to know. Merlin watched as she pouted, slightly. “Morgana, what are you? Five?”

“Maybe,” 

 

 

**Friday**

 

Merlin practically skipped into the kitchen, whistling his favourite love song while he did so. He pulled out a cup and poured himself some tea. He took gulp before realising that he was using Arthur’s favourite cup. 

He took this cup on holiday’s with him; why would he leave it now? 

With a nonchalant shrug, Merlin sipped again, savouring in being able to use it. Arthur always got so tetchy when someone else used it (though, he didn’t mind when Merlin used it, Merlin found). Although, it had belonged to Arthur’s mother, who’d died two months after Arthur was born. 

  
_It’s today his_ subconscious reminded him. 

Checking his calendar, he realised that was true. _28th September_. Merlin supposed that, like every year, he would be invited to Uther’s, where he’d join Morgana, Leon, and a few surviving members of Uther and Ygraine’s family. 

  
He pulled out his phone, dialling Uther’s number. 

“Merlin, I expect you’re calling to say you’ll be round at 6?” Uther’s business voice called out. Ah, so he couldn’t get the day off, this year. That, or a client had decided to call round, unexpected, and was in his study. 

“Yes. Do you want me to bring anything?” 

“No, everything is taken care of,” Before Merlin could say goodbye, Uther hung up. Client in his study. 

Merlin put his phone on the side, drinking his tea again. He lifted his mug towards the ceiling. Rest in peace Ygraine he thought. 

 

It felt bizarre, being there without Arthur. Uther, Morgana and Leon made him feel welcome, but something was missing. 

“He’s going to come back to you, Merlin, I promise,” Uther spoke softly as he poured Merlin some more wine. “Now come on, you belong here as much as I do,” 

Merlin didn’t think to tell Uther that he hadn’t known Ygraine, unlike the other guests. Instead, he joined the others who kept asking Merlin when Arthur would be coming. He couldn’t find it in himself to tell them that Arthur wouldn’t, so he shrugged and gave a rueful smile every time he was asked. 

Morgana stayed close by his side the whole night, saving him from situations where he’d have to explain. He was thankful for that. Nobody else would have done it for him. 

 

Laying in bed later that night, Merlin couldn’t stop the sharp ache in his chest that he knew had been caused by Arthur. 

 

 

**October**

**Wednesday**

 

“Are you sure Lance won’t mind?” Merlin questioned, eyebrow furrowing as Gwen grabbed his hand and yanked him out of the car. 

“Lance wouldn’t have it any other way. He suggested you, Merlin,”

“But this is something the Bride and Groom do together!” He protested.

Gwen was currently pulling him towards one of the best catering businesses in town, that would be catering for her wedding in April. Today, they’d be choosing a menu. Or, at least short listing for when Lance was back in town. He’d been sent to America for three weeks for work. Lucky sod. 

The caterer, Helen, sat them down in the centre of the largest room, sitting across from them with a large smile on her face. 

  
“Welcome to Willowdale Catering!” She grinned, pulling out portfolio’s full of pictures of wedding’s they’d catered for. “I’m the manager of the company, and the head chef for events such as birthdays and weddings. I believe you’ve spoken to my team on the phone, about themes and rough numbers?” Gwen nodded enthusiastically. “So, what is the theme?” Helen leaned forward, smiling even wider if it was possible. Her own engagement ring twinkled in the electric candlelight. Great, Merlin thought, I’m going to be here all day.

  
“As we’re having a Spring wedding, we’re leaning towards the whole Spring/Cherry Blossom idea,”

“So, we’re thinking pinks, reds, whites?” Gwen nodded again. “Have you put any thought into food ideas?”

“We, well, I more like, put thought into the cake. I was thinking of a tiered cake,”

 

“Any specific flavour?” Helen smiled, beginning to jot down ideas. Merlin swore he read ivory fondant upside down. How could she have ideas already?

“No, although Lance’s favourite is sponge and raspberry jam,” 

“Ah, the perfect party cake,” Helen muttered. She began to draw something, her hand moving too quickly for Merlin to keep up with. Things were silent as Helen drew and Gwen flipped through a wedding cake magazine. After a few minutes, Helen lifted up her paper to reveal a roughly sketched four tier cake with blossoms on the top two tiers. She’d written words around it, like pastel pink (with a question mark), ivory white (another question mark) and words that Merlin couldn’t make out as they were scrawled so messily. “What do you think?” 

 

“It looks lovely!” Gwen took the paper from Helen. She put it between Merlin and herself, beginning to comment on it, asking about details.

“Could you not have the blossoms getting smaller, until they’re tiny on the tier?” Merlin asked, as if it was obvious. Gwen and Helen both looked at each other like they’d hit the jackpot, Helen writing that on the top. They began to discuss something Merlin would never understand, however much he tried, and he zoned out. 

He was going to be eating all the cake he could, he reminded himself. Food glorious food! he sang in his head. 

 

 

**Thursday**

 

After being dragged to see three possible wedding venues, Merlin was knackered. Gwen and Lance practically knew they were getting married at a private hall two towns over, but it didn’t stop Gwen from looking elsewhere. 

  
He expected that he’d be forced to help with wedding planning even more in the future, being Gwen’s “man of honour” and who she’d chosen to walk her down the aisle. She’d already asked him to come dress shopping with herself, Morgana, Freya and Elena.

He hoped the wedding came quickly, before he went insane. It wasn’t even his wedding! He’d spent the day before trying food, which was great, but most of it was dominated by talk of napkins. Who cared how napkins were folded? 

 

Apparently, they were the first thing people noticed at a wedding. It made Merlin’s head spin - he didn’t envy Lance for marrying the love of his life. If Merlin never married, he’d be happy. Months and months of planning for one day that would probably be a disaster until the “I do’s”? Merlin wondered what type of maniac would do that. 

  
Now, he was relaxing in the bath, eating his favourite ice cream, the laptop balanced on the toilet playing his favourite romance film. The house phone was behind him from a phonecall from Morgana asking if Merlin could babysit this Saturday. Mordred had asked specifically for him. 

Merlin watched the screen as the protagonist leaned in to kiss her boyfriend. He’d seen it about fifty thousand times, so he knew the boy’s mother was going to walk in and go bat shit crazy as the girl, telling her to stay away - but just as the mother opened the door, the phone rang again.

 

“Hello?” Merlin answered, licking the ice cream spoon, expecting it to be Morgana again. No answer. There was definitely someone there, though. Merlin could hear them breathing. He repeated himself. 

“Merlin?” Someone spoke out. Merlin recognised that voice. It was Arthur! Merlin struggled to form his words, in shock from hearing Arthur’s voice. 

“Arthur?” He choked. The line went dead and Merlin continued to stare at the phone, willing it to ring again, until the bathwater was algid. 

 

 

**November**

**Sunday**

 

It was snowing. 

Merlin was curled up on the sofa with two duvets enveloping him with the heating on full. Mordred slept next to him, covered in food from his Sunday dinner. The cat was stretched in front of the radiator like a jumper that had fallen from the drying rack. 

On the telly, Jeremy Kyle ripped into some prick that was cheating on his wife, with his ex, but was demanding paternity test because there was, according to him, no way those children could be his. They looked just like him, if Merlin was being honest. Poor kids. 

Mordred snorted, rubbing his nose while turning his head in the direction of the telly. Merlin smiled. Mordred was a cute kid, if a little clingy. He’d never grown up with younger siblings, so he couldn’t compare him to others. Maybe all two year olds were like that. Well, nearly two. 

Though, Merlin found, if all kids were like Mordred, Merlin wouldn’t mind having one of his own. One day. As an adopted kid, he doubted Mordred was supposed to look like Morgana (and, Merlin supposed, he had Leon’s ears), but they say if you live with someone long enough you start to look like them. 

It had taken years to find the right child - perhaps they’d chosen Mordred because his parents were the closest match to Morgana and Leon. They adopted him at a week old, from teenage parents who decided adoption was the best route. 

Mordred turned in his sleep, punching his fist in the air as he stretched. 

The sound of the audience cheering on TV pulled Merlin’s vision from Mordred to the telly. A new person came out on stage, raging. How dare you bring us on the Jeremy Kyle show? How dare you accuse my sister of cheating on you while you run around with this -bleeped out- and -bleeped out-? Merlin snuggled into his duvets, content and warm in his cotton cocoon. 

 

**Thursday**

 

“Happy birthday dear Mordred! Happy birthday to you!” Morgana placed the Disney cake in front of Mordred who smiled happily, clapping his hands and shouting out. “Make a wish Mordred! Put don’t tell anybody or it wont come true,” She crouched next to him put her hand on the table. Mordred blew out the candles (missing one that kept lighting back up again and making everybody laugh).

  
“CAKE!” He shouted, reaching out to try and snatch some of the cake. His mother laughed, shaking her head. 

“Presents, first, Mordred!” She smiled “Merlin, would you do the honours?” 

Everyone stood in a circle around Leon, Mordred and Merlin. Leon was sat with his legs wide, Mordred in the middle of them, opening presents. Aunt Beatrice. Elena and Mithian. Uncle Gaius. Alice. Granddad. Aunt Morgause and Uncle Cenred. Merlin handed them over one by one, reading the messages while Mordred jumped up and down in excitement. 

“Alright, Mordred, this ones from me!” He handed over the large present that Mordred pounced on, ripping at the wrapping paper that Merlin had picked up from Clinton’s Cards at the last minute. Merlin had bought him a toy dog that he’d been begging for every time they passed it in the High Street. Mordred screamed, picking it up and bouncing with it. 

“Mummy, look!” He yelled. 

Merlin laughed, picking up another, this time from Gawaine (and his mother). Mickey Mouse toy set and a new t-shirt. Merlin grabbed another, from the back of the pile, peeling back the name tag. Mordred, sorry I couldn’t be there for your birthday. Uncle Arthur xxx 

Merlin felt his own cheeks redden, his throat constricting slightly. 

“This ones from Uncle Arthur, he says he’s sorry he’s not here,” He stammered, clearing away the wrapping paper to keep his mind from it and what it could mean. It was probably Morgana. She could forge his handwriting. 

  
It was the Little Tikes 3-in-1 trike Arthur and Merlin had been thinking of buying him for Christmas the previous year, before settling on a walker and one of those cars everybody had as a child. 

Merlin smiled, feeling a little sentimental, before passing another present from Granddad to the birthday boy. 

 

He stood outside, in the cold, pretending to smoke by breathing heavily. He was either smoking or a dragon. 

“What are you doing out here, Merlin?” Morgana asked, opening up the conservatory door. “It’s freezing out here and you’ve not got a coat!” 

“Just thinking,” He breathed out again. Definitely a dragon. “It was nice, giving him a present from Arthur,” 

  
“We didn’t write that. Arthur came by this morning,”

“He came? Here?” Merlin turned to face her. 

“He didn’t stay. He didn’t even come in. He gave me a letter for you, though,” She pulled a white envelope out of her pocket. “And told me to tell you to forgive him,” 

“I already have,” Merlin said, taking the letter from her. Morgana put her hand on his shoulder, looking him directly in the eyes. He knew she was keeping something from him. He knew her far to well for her to hide anything. 

 

“I know that but he doesn’t. He misses you Merlin, and he wants to come back,”

“Then why doesn’t he?” He saw Morgana’s eyes mist in tears. It was then he knew. She knew why Arthur had left. “What aren’t you telling me, Morgana?”

“Just read it,” She wiped her eyes. Merlin looked down at the envelop, seeing the scrawl that was Arthur Pendragon’s handwriting. When Merlin looked back up, Morgana was gone. 

 

 

**December**

**Monday**

 

Merlin didn’t read the letter on Mordred birthday. He put it on the mantelpiece, promising nobody in particular that he’d open it on New Years Day. 

If Arthur had thought it so important that Merlin should know, Arthur would have told him face-to-face. Obviously, it wasn’t vital that Merlin knew. It probably wouldn’t explain anything anyway. It was probably Arthur’s final goodbye. 

Merlin didn’t know what was worse. Knowing or not knowing. 

 

Merlin spent the week before Christmas shopping with anybody who had a day off. He had a four week break for Christmas, something to do with decorating and renovation at Albion International, as well as software updates. 

Of course, he could be called in at random to help with an overnight transaction. But, so far, he hadn’t. 

Now, he was shopping with Gwen and Sefa. Sefa had run into them at McDonalds, when they’d stopped for coffee, and they’d been guilt tripped into inviting her. 

She’d not really spoken to Merlin since that day, as Merlin referred to it. And Merlin hadn’t tried to speak to her, either.

He wasn’t really interested in the conversation now, if he was being honest. That was until she said: 

“Arthur Pendragon called me the other night,” 

“What?” Gwen spat out her coffee all over the person in front of her, who shot them all a dirty look before stomping off, complaining at his wife.

“He called you? Why?” Merlin demanded. 

“To ask how you were,” She said as if it was obvious. “I told him you were great,” 

“Is that all he said?”

“Yes. Hey, have you tried the new Boots face wash?” 

“No, I haven’t, but what about Arthur? Why would he call you? You never spoke to him!” Gwen folded her arms slightly, coffee completely finished now. 

“Of course I did. We talked all the time before he left. I helped him go. Not that it’s important now he’s gone.” 

“Not important? Sefa, are you stupid? That’s Merlin’s boyfriend. Who disappeared. With no explanation why. And you tell us now, months after he left?”

“Whatever, you guys are overreacting!”

“Overreact-- I’ll show you overreacting!” Merlin grabbed Gwen who looked like she was about to go for the jugular. Throwing his basket on the floor, he dragged Gwen out of the shop and onto the bus to go back home. That was more drama than he needed for the Christmas holidays. 

Or, it was, until Gwen’s waters broke at nine o’clock, just as they were lying down to watch a film they’d been desperately trying to see since before Arthur left. 

Merlin had to replace Lance as birth partner -- who’d been sent to Hungary for eighteen days to secure a transaction -- and had to go 41 hours without sleep. 

Gwen temporarily moved in with Merlin for help with Forridel (it changed his mind about the baby situation. He wouldn’t like to have one at all. He was up every two hours in the night with Gwen to feed Forridel, and she always wanted changing, but would scream the place down if she was put down, and she’d even demand to fall asleep on someone’s chest because she hated being put down. Babies were definitely not for Merlin). 

 

 

**Saturday**

 

Christmas was nice, if quiet. Uther had invited Merlin over for Christmas. Morgana and Leon were at Leon’s parents for the day, but they’d be at Uther’s for around 7, just in time for Doctor Who and Christmas games. 

Uther had made a small Christmas meal for himself and Merlin (and Gaius, it turned out, who’d come over unannounced. Although, it must have been a given. He was there every year. Gaius brought with him some of the greatest wine Merlin had ever tasted). 

Merlin’s heart ached at the absence of Arthur, even if he’d been gone for eight months. It was the longest they’d been apart since meeting, but it hadn’t dulled the feelings. 

 

“Smile, my boy, it’s Christmas!” Gaius clapped an arm around Merlin, swaying them from side to side in time to The Pogues with a big old grin on his face. Merlin couldn’t help but beam along. Uther walked in with a tray of mini-quiches, insisting both men tried one. As a single father, he’d been forced to learn to cook pretty quickly. 

And he could actually cook. Arthur thought Merlin’s mum cooked better, but for Merlin, it was an equal toss. 

But, Merlin liked anything that could be put on a plate.

 

Gwen, Lance and Forridel arrived before five, exchanging gifts, which went underneath the tree -- nothing could be opened until Morgana got there, it was sacrilege to suggest otherwise! -- before they attacked the wine. 

 

Uther held the baby, who was surprisingly calm in his arms. He cooed over her, smiling as if he was holding the most precious treasure in the whole universe. 

“Careful Uther, you’ll scare her with that face,” Merlin joked, earning a glare from Uther.

“She’s beautiful, Gwen,”

“Just like her mother, then,” A tipsy Lance smirked, kissing his fiancée on the cheek. Gwen swatted at Lance’s hand, though it was obvious that she didn’t mind him acting like that. 

“It’s true, Gwen, you really are remarkably beautiful!” Uther exclaimed, grinning like that cat that got the cream. Merlin had never seen Uther so happy. 

 

Actually, he probably had, but it used to be unnerving to see Uther happy, so he’d probably blocked it out. 

 

“Has Arthur been in touch for Christmas?” Lance questioned, pouring more wine and lemonade. 

“Arthur? No, but I sent him something from us all, and a card telling him to come home,”

“You know where he is?” Merlin leaned forward. 

 

“Me? No, no. A friend told me he’d stopped by at his though, gave him his address, but Alator won’t budge. Said Arthur had made him swear it,” Merlin felt his heart drop a little. Arthur really didn’t want to be found. Uther sounded so nonchalant about it, but Merlin knew he‘d have yelled and bellowed first. “Alator called and said Arthur’s spending Christmas with them, but we’re not to go, no matter what,” 

 

“Oh,” Gwen uttered. Uther gave a shrug, lifting Forridel onto his shoulder and tapping her back as he walked into the kitchen. When he came back through, Morgana, Leon and Mordred followed, bringing with them the scent of car leather and pumpkin pie. 

“Saw the lights in the garden, figured it could only be them,” Uther jigged the baby, aiming to keep her quiet through Mordred’s shouting.

“Merry Christmas guys!” Morgana shook bags of presents at them, smiling like a child in a candy shop. 

 

An hour later, one present remained unopened underneath the tree. Morgana plucked it from it’s place, squinting her eyes at the terrible handwriting. 

“I think it says Merlin, but it could say Nepal,” She leaned it towards Lance for a second opinion before giving it to Merlin. Merlin tore the paper easily to reveal Merlin’s favourite DVD, that Arthur had broken by accident the last time they watched it. _Merry Christmas - A x_  

“What is it? Who’s it from?”

 

“There’s no name,” Which was true to some extent, even if Merlin knew who it was from. It certainly wasn’t from Annis Alined. Forridel squawked at Gwen, who wasn’t fast enough in feeding her and Mordred covered his ears, shaking his head.

“Mummy no baby, ok?” He shouted over Forridel, who refused to take the bottle. Leon and Morgana shared a look before shaking their heads at their son who cheered when Forridel finally decided to drink. 

 

 

**January**

**Saturday**

 

Merlin awoke with a hangover on the first day of the year. He made himself coffee, hoping the painkillers would kick in quickly. 

He sat on the sofa, staring at the letter on the mantelpiece, wondering if he could destroy it with his mind, then he’d never find out. But he wanted to know why his Arthur had left him. He needed to know. Placing the mug on the coffee table, he fetched the letter, tore it open and read the first line, To Merlin, then decided it was best he sat down. 

He curled up on the sofa, holding his mug in one hand and the letter in the other. He took a sip, thanking whoever lived upstairs that the headache was now gone, then began to read: 

 

> _To Merlin,_
> 
> _I know you’ll have put this off as long as possible, and I’m unsure as to whether that’s a good or bad thing. I know you’ll be debating the same thing, and I also know that you’re going to hate me after this letter. Please don’t be angry. I never wanted to leave. I’d hoped we could just talk this out but Sefa threatened to tell you herself if I didn’t go._
> 
> _On the night before Agravaine died, I slept with Sefa. Even though I don’t remember doing so, I accept full responsibility for my actions._
> 
> _As I know you, you’ll be wanting the full story, but I cannot tell you even if I tried. I remember working late, stopping at father’s office to pick up a document that I’d had mailed to him and coming across Sefa. We had a drink, not even alcoholic, which she fetched from the vending machines, and this is all I remember._
> 
> _The next morning, I awoke in her bed and she told me if I didn’t leave, she would report me to the police for rape. She didn’t, but her threats went from texts, to phone calls, to showing up at work and rumours._
> 
> _The week before I left, she came to my office with all the proof she needed that we’d slept together, which she was going to give to you, and proof that it was rape, that she would give to her solicitor._
> 
> _She told me I was to leave, to allow you and her to have a chance. I knew, though, that you wouldn’t accept that. You’re gay, for Gods sake! And so am I, but somehow, we got into this situation._
> 
> _And the day before I left, she came to my office with her solicitor, threatening a court case if I didn’t leave._
> 
> _Part of the agreement is that I don’t contact you directly, but I couldn’t leave it all unexplained._
> 
> _I’m living in Lincoln now, working in a florists. It was the first job I came across, but I really enjoy it. It’s not the highlife we’re used to, but, you know._
> 
> _Don’t let her know you know. Please. Please don’t. She checks up on me all the time to make sure I’ve not spoken to you. The last time she came, she made it clear you’d turned her down and thought it was something to do with me telling you._
> 
> _I’m sorry, Merlin, for everything._
> 
> _I love you. So much. And I wish things were different._
> 
> _Arthur x_

 

Merlin gawped at the letter in disbelief, feeling anger bubbling beneath his flesh. He reached over to the phone, dialling the number he knew off-by-heart. 

“Get over here, now,”

“Merlin? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll explain later, Gwen, get here, now,” He hung up then called Morgana, saying the exact same thing. No matter what Arthur said, they had a person to destroy. 

 

 

**Tuesday**

 

Work was relatively quiet. The phone’s weren’t ringing every two seconds with bizarre demands, emails weren’t pouring in behesting the impossible and nobody had come for a meeting regarding ridiculous requests. 

But Merlin had his own tasks to get along with. He was scouring CCTV from the night before Agravaine’s death. So far, he’d found Arthur arriving, alone, and Arthur collecting whatever was in his father’s office, but nothing after that. 

 

That was, until Gwen called him saying that she’d found footage of Sefa dragging an unconscious Arthur through the building (at 03:49am) and into a car parked on the front. Merlin ran up the stairs to Human Resources rather than taking the lift, where Morgana and Gwen sat at a computer, writing notes. 

They played the clip, looking from Merlin to each other with a worried look. 

 

“This proves she drugged him,” Morgana nodded. “And it proves to anyone with eyes that she’s a liar, but if we’re to take it to court, which I suppose we are, we’re going to have to get proof that sex didn’t happen,”

“If it comes to it, we’re taking it to court. I want to speak to her first, with you two there. She’s going to regret the day she made the decision to move to London,” Merlin growled, the anger screaming to be released. 

 

 

They cornered Sefa at the end of her shift; and hell reigned from the sky as Morgana, Gwen and Merlin laid into her. 

 

 

When they finished, with shaking fingers, Sefa handed over both sets of ‘proof’, which Merlin vowed to burn. When they were sure she’d made no copies, Merlin made to leave.

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” She tried to reach out to him, but he shrugged her off. 

“Sorry? You’re sorry? I don’t think you understand what that word means, Sefa,” He spat, shaking his head at her. “Get out of my sight, Sefa, you disgust me!” He turned on his heel, followed by Morgana and Gwen, storming up the stairs with a thunderous look on his face. 

 

Merlin threw the ‘proof’ onto his table, wanting nothing more than to watch it burst into flames. But he had to know what was so powerful that Arthur it could chase Arthur from his home and his love. 

 

Later, when Merlin dropped Gwen at home, she put her hand on Merlin’s. 

“He’ll come back now, Merlin, I promise,” 

 

 

**February**

**Monday**

 

 

He didn’t come back. Merlin waited, day after day after day, but Arthur never came. Sefa quit her job and moved to America, back to her father, who she hadn’t seen since she was 11, but Merlin was still alone. 

 

Whatever she’d done, she’d made Arthur want to stay away for life. Maybe Arthur didn’t love Merlin after all. Maybe he didn’t care enough to come home. 

Merlin’s heart hurt at the thought. It had almost been a year, but the wound felt as fresh as the day it happened. 

“Merlin? What do you think?” Gwen’s voice pierced the veil of his thoughts. She stood there in a wedding dress option and Merlin’s mouth dropped. She was wearing a tulle princess dress, with a sweetheart neckline. It was an off white pink colour, which usually wasn’t her colour, but she looked beautiful. 

 

“Oh wow, Gwen, can I marry you instead? Lance wouldn’t mind, I’m sure of it,”

“I look that good, huh?” 

“You look amazing. I think this is the one,”

“You’ve said this is the one for the past two dresses, Merlin,” She raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips. 

 

“No, but I really think this is the one!” Merlin whined as she checked herself out in the mirror. She put it on the shortlist, where the owner, Enmyria, hung it up with a coat hanger once she’d taken it off. Four were currently on the shortlist, with one dress left. 

When Gwen opened the curtain, Merlin knew that dress was the one. It was an ivory, floor length ball gown with a scoop neckline, Enmyria explained, with a chapel-length train (whatever that was, Merlin thought), with a crystalised Grosgrain Ribbon. It all sounded like complete jibberish to Merlin. But he knew this was the dress. 

 

“Gwen, Gwen, this is the one, you have to get married in this dress. This dress is your soul dress, Gwen,”

“Soul dress?” Gwen laughed. 

“You know what I mean!” 

“I do, unfortunately. Call Morgana, she’s helping finalise the ideas,” 

 

Merlin was right. That dress was the one. Morgana demanded Gwen tried them all on again for her, then squealed like a little girl when she walked out wearing the last one. Morgana teared up like this was the proudest day of her life, even paying for half of Gwen’s dress. 

Morgana had tried to pay for all of it, but Gwen had refused. Merlin spent the rest of the day listening to women talk, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. 

 

**Friday**

 

Favours, Merlin decided, were the worst thing in existence. Deciding on favours was close up there at number two. 

Whoever had come up with the idea that guests need a thank you present needed their ears boxing. No, they didn’t need a small gift. Merlin was going crazy at the thought of it. They were getting free food and a good night! Did they really need more? 

“Can’t we just give them little bags of chocolate?” Lance sighed in frustration. “They don’t need personalised gifts! Or -- kissing swans or whatever Mrs Holmes suggested,” 

“Oh, but Lance, swans mate for life!” Merlin said sarcastically. 

 

“Shut it you,” Lance groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Boys, this isn’t helping,” Gwen shook her head. “Chocolate sounds good. Do you think Helen would mind making chocolate hearts?” 

“We could go to a warehouse and buy in bulk?” Merlin thought out loud. “And Paperchase could supply us with the boxes or whatever,” 

“Good idea!” Lance pushed away the wedding magazines that were piled in front of him. “Merlin’s cracked it, we don’t have to think anymore,”

 

“Are you being sarcastic?” Gwen challenged. 

“No, I’m just so done with favours. Can’t they live with the knowledge that their friends are going to live the rest of their lives together, happy and in love? Can’t that be their gift? It used to be before all this ‘favours’ shit,” 

“Lancelot du Lac, language!” Morgana chided with a smirk. “You know what guys, I agree with Merlin, bulk buying and making it ourselves. Makes it cheaper and who doesn’t like chocolate?” The other three agreed. If somebody had have suggested chocolate earlier, they could have been finished hours ago. 

 

 

**March**

**Wednesday**

 

Merlin slept all day. He dreamt Arthur was back, kissing him, telling Merlin he loved him, Arthur continuously apologising for leaving. 

Merlin felt sorry for the rest of the day when he’d woken up, praying that the dream would continue when he slept later. It didn’t. It was exactly three weeks until Gwen’s wedding and Gwen was running around non-stop. 

Merlin had babysat Mordred and Forridel for three days straight while Gwen and Morgana finalised ideas. Lance had been sent last minute to Florida, and Leon, the clever man, had retreated to a friends house to give Morgana space.

Of course, just as Merlin thought it was safe, Morgana phoned and asked him to babysit again. 

 

 

Gwen arrived with Forridel and Mordred just after tea with Forridel’s travel cot and changing bag. 

“How long for this time?” Merlin asked before offering to make a cup of tea. 

“Not sure, we’ll call if it’s longer than last time and bring by more nappies. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t trust anybody else with her. Not even Lance’s mum!”

“Gwen, it’s fine, honest. So what’s the plan?” 

“We’re driving over to the venue, staying over night then finalising ideas. They want to finalise and talk about setting up,” 

 

“It’s not for another three weeks,”

“I know, I know, but you know how these things are,”

“Ah, yes, as a kept man, I know exactly how these things are, Gwen,”

“Don’t pretend you’ve no interest, Merlin. Anyway, I must dash. But she takes five ounces per bottle. Here’s twenty now from me, in case you need to buy formula or nappies, you shouldn’t have to though, and here’s twenty from Morgana for Mordred,”

 

“You don’t need to pay me, Guinevere, I’m perfectly capable of providing for two children,” 

“I know, not saying you’re not! It’s just the least we can do! We’re running you ragged. If you have to go into work, we’ll figure something out,”

“Would you trust my mum, Gwen? It’s just she’s coming down this weekend, and I might get called into work at some point. She’d love to come down sooner with an excuse,” Merlin said, walking her to the door.

 

“Of course I’d trust Hunith! She’s a brilliant mum!” 

Merlin gasped. “And Rose isn’t? How scandalous of you, Gwen!” 

Laughing, Gwen closed the door and ran to Morgana’s car that waited for her on the driveway. Oh, this was going to be a long few days, Merlin thought as Forridel began to wail.

 

 

**Tuesday**

 

 

Merlin was still babysitting the next week, though Gwen and Morgana came over from nursery finishing for Mordred until bedtime. Though, a week before, Gwen, Morgana, Lance and Leon would travel to the venue to put together the last of the pieces. Merlin thought that had been done weeks ago. 

 

Hunith was around to help, so things were a lot easier. 

“You’d make a good dad, Merlin,” Hunith pondered one day over lunch as he fed Forridel. 

“Mum, I hardly think good babysitting amounts to being a good dad,” He laughed, setting Forridel in her travel cot. “Anyway, I need to get to work. Mordred finishes nursery at 3, but I told them you were coming for him at ten to. They know you’re coming and what you look like, all you need to do is knock on the side door, rather than the front,”

 

“Alright, see you later, sweet,” Hunith leaned over and kissed her sons cheek. She watched him leave then sighed. She hated lying to him; but how could she tell him that Arthur had been living in her house since last August without causing an argument? 

She sighed again while washing up, wondering whether everything would work out how she wanted it to or whether it was too late. She picked up her phone, finding Arthur’s number and texted him, telling him that Merlin was gone and it was safe.

 

Ten minutes later, Arthur walked through the door of his home, taking a look round and noticing how little it had changed. 

A little bit of a wallpaper change here. A different colour paint there. And Merlin had finally got rid of that awful mantelpiece ornament the old neighbour had given them as a welcome present. 

“How is he, Hunith?” He asked, noticing the baby straight away. 

“He misses you. He says he’s happy but he’s really not,”

 

“And the baby? Is it -- is it his?” 

“Forridel? Oh God no! Merlin’s just babysitting! She’s Gwen’s girl,” 

“Gwen? Gwen had a baby? But she never said anything,” 

“Like you ever asked,” Hunith teased, nudging Arthur with her elbow. 

“What? I saw her last week and asked all about her life!”

“I’m only pulling your pigtails, Arthur. Perhaps she wanted it to be a surprise? Maybe she mentioned it in passing and you didn’t hear? Or maybe the wedding’s just overtaken everything else? I mean our Merlin has been babysitting for two weeks now. He was babysitting almost a week before that and three days the time before,” Arthur looked surprised. He hated hearing about Merlin being overworked. And he thought that Merlin was awful with kids on his own. His mother had said so herself! 

 

Arthur took a bite of his sandwich, thinking things over, while Hunith ran upstairs. Forridel wailed; he froze. What did he do? What do babies need when they cry? He threw his sandwich onto the plate, stood up and assessed the situation. 

Hunith didn’t come running down the stairs at the babies tears. What did he do? He picked the baby up, hush-hush-hushing as she cried into his shoulder. Slowly, she stopped crying, falling back to sleep in the crook of Arthur’s neck. 

And every time he tried to put her down, she screamed Bloody Mary.

 

 

Merlin got home at 11, his stomach grumbling. When he walked in, he was hit by the smell of Old Spice. 

“Good day, Mum?”

“It’s been lovely. The kids are wonderful, aren’t they?” 

“For kids, I suppose so,” He smiled, eyeing his mother suspiciously.

 

He made himself toast then went straight to bed, bringing the baby and her cot with him. Mordred was asleep on “his side of the bed”, sprawled out in the shape of a star. He set Forridel down on the bed as he sorted out the travel cot on his side of the bed. Forridel groaned as Merlin put her back into her cot, scratching her nose and falling back to sleep. 

He swore he heard two voices, downstairs, and the door shut like it wasn’t supposed to be heard, but he put it down to being halfway between reality and the dream world. 

 

 

**April**

**Saturday**

 

Merlin woke early, hating the emptiness he felt in his hotel room. It always felt cold and unloved, despite how long he spent there, and made the ache in his chest more acute. 

He took his suit from the wardrobe, dressed in tracksuit bottoms and one of Arthur’s old t-shirts, and walked down to Gwen’s room. When he walked in, he wasn’t prepared for the screaming and shouting. 

“JUST BREATHE IN! FUCKING BREATHE IN, THIS DRESS WILL FIT!” Gwen had Morgana bent over the dresser, trying to zip up the bridesmaids dress. 

“Oh my God, guys, what’s going on?” 

“The dress doesn’t fit! My boobs are too big!” Morgana wailed. 

“Suck it in, Pendragon!” Merlin shouted, holding the dress at the top of the zip. Gwen zipped it up, letting out a shout of joy when it went all the way up. 

“Jesus Morgana, can your boobs get any bigger? You’ve gone up three sizes in the last month, I didn’t even go through that when I was pregnant with… Oh my God, you’re pregnant,”

“Shut up, Leon doesn’t know,” Merlin and Gwen stared dumbfounded. “Look, we don’t have time for this right now, we have a wedding in,” She checked her phone “two and a half hours!” 

It took them twenty minutes to get Gwen into her dress, because, as Gwen put, they were both useless idiots. 

 

When hair and makeup was done with her, she looked beautiful. Her hair, usually tied in a tight bun, cascaded down her back until it reached her lower back. She looked absolutely beautiful. Lance was a lucky, lucky man. 

With forty minutes, Merlin dressed, but fumbled with his tie. Morgana tutted, swatting his hands out of the way. With a satisfied smile, she turned him towards the mirror.

“I’m going to cry in a minute. I’m so proud of you, my babies,” Morgana put her arms around Merlin and Gwen. “I love you both so much!”

“You’re so hormonal,” Merlin laughed. 

“Shut up, Emrys! I’m going to call Leon. Mordred better be ready!” Merlin watched as she went into the bathroom, dialling Leon’s number on the way. 

Gwen looked satisfied by how she looked, turning towards Merlin with a proud smile. 

“You look ever so handsome, Merlin,”

“And you look beautiful, Guinevere. Now, we really need to get going. We’ve to fetch Mordred, Forridel and Rose. I think Gawaine’s coming with us, too. But we’re dropping him off at the first loop,” He offered Gwen his arm, who took it gladly. 

 

Merlin walked her down the aisle where Lance stood at the alter, tears in his eyes at his bride. The door slammed shut as the priest began the ceremony, and a body shuffled into the brides side. People turned to glare. Merlin stood by her side as “man of honour” (she couldn’t have a maid of honour now, could she?), feeling himself welling up as Gwen said her vows. 

Even Morgana cried as they exchanged rings. 

Merlin looked around and found most women in the hall were crying, and a few of the men. Leon was crying. That was something Morgana would hold against him later, Merlin knew. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” The priest beamed, closing the book in front of him. Merlin doubted he even needed it. It was probably just for show. “You may now kiss the bride!” The whole room cheered as they kissed, turning to face everybody in the hall. When everyone shuffled out, they signed their certificates, taking photos in unnatural poses. Outside on the grass, photos were taken of the whole wedding party (in even more unnatural poses), and Merlin, accidentally as it hit him in the face, caught the bouquet. And the garter, which landed on his head. He wasn’t sure what that said about him or Gwen’s aim. 

“Merlin’s to marry himself, apparently,” Gawaine slapped Merlin’s arm, a playful smile on his face. “The carriage awaits, my fair maiden,” He offered Merlin his arm, who pushed it away with a smirk. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about the garter or the flowers. 

 

The reception was in full swing when the bride and groom walked through the doors. Everybody cheered to see them, grinning wide and throwing confetti (where they’d obtained it, Merlin would never know). 

  
Merlin made a beeline for the bar, ordering a vodka and coke. Praise the Lord and his Angels for alcohol. He took a gulp and felt his body sigh in appreciation. Praise the Lord indeed. 

He sat at the bar for a while, people watching, until Mordred asked him to dance, dragging him onto the dance floor as Aqua blared through the speakers. They danced and chased until Merlin was out of breath, and desperate for another vodka. 

  
"Uncy Murlin, no sit down, dance!” 

“Mordred, leave Uncle Merlin alone, I think he’s had enough,” Leon laughed, picking up his son “Come on, Auntie Morgause is here. I think she’s got some sweets for you!” Merlin gave a thumbs up to Leon, who winked, then he retreated to the bar, ordering the same as before.

He drank it slowly this time, listening to the conversations around him, getting involved when he was consulted. He knew he was avoiding confrontation and questions (his own mother had tried a conversation, bizarrely, to which he’d just smiled and nodded) about his personal life. He just wasn’t ready. Okay, so it’d had been a year, and by now, he should have been into another relationship, happily moved on, but he loved Arthur. Did it matter that it had been a year?

He ordered another drink. Then one more. And Elena and Mithian bought him shots by the dozen as the night went on. The ache in his chest dulled, but the thoughts in his mind seemed to increase. Why should he forgive Arthur if he came back? He knew he would. He’d drop everything, despite it being against his own character. But shouldn’t he move on? He should at least try to date somebody else. Leon’s friend, what’s his name, the one with the teeth, was interested in him, wasn’t he? And the guy who owned the coffee shop. He was good looking enough. But would he be able to find itself in him to love somebody else? But it had been just under a year. 

“Well, don’t you look dashing?” He was jumped him from his thoughts by a voice he couldn’t quite place. He turned to his right, his blood chilling. Arthur. Arthur was here. Arthur was stood in front of him, smiling at him like he was the most important thing in his life. 

  
“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice sounded strange to himself. He felt detached from himself. 

“Hi there,” He grinned, standing at Merlin’s side. “Same as last time and a… vodka and coke,” He smiled at the barman. He handed Merlin his drink, gesturing for them to go on a walk, taking him outside and onto balcony. Merlin stumbled next to him, drunk enough already. They sat at one of the tables that had been set up, things silent between them. Merlin gaped at Arthur, wanting to reach out and touch him, to make sure he was real. 

“How are you, Merlin?” 

“I’m good. How are you?” His words were slightly slurred as he spoke. 

  
“I’m not so good. You see, I have a dilemma,”

“Oh?” 

“Yes. I left the man I love just under a year ago today, and despite the issue being solved, I didn’t return,”

“That sounds terrible,” He feigned, leaning onto his hands and looking Arthur in the eyes. 

“Quite! And now, a year later, I’m stood here, about to ask him if he’d ever love me again, but, alas, I fear he has someone else,”

  
“Someone else? Oh, Arthur, however will you cope if that’s the outcome?” Merlin leaned forward, meeting Arthur halfway. Merlin knew he shouldn’t drop everything and just allow Arthur to walk straight back in his life; but it was Arthur. And he was terribly, terribly drunk. 

“That’s the problem,” Arthur swallowed, glancing at Merlin’s lips. “I wouldn’t,” Arthur leaned in and kissed him. 

“Couldn’t cope? Well that wouldn’t do, would it now?” Another kiss.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t,” Another.

“Well, he’ll have no choice but to love you again,” And another to seal the deal. 

  
“Really?” Arthur pulled back, checking Merlin’s eyes for any signs of doubt. Merlin wrapped his ankle around Arthur’s, giving a shy grin. The pain in Merlin’s chest was gone and he felt happy for the first time after a year. 

“Really, really,” 

  
Merlin knew he shouldn’t drop everything and run straight back into the arms of Arthur. He knew he shouldn’t give him a chance at all, but he had to. It was Arthur. He couldn’t forsake Arthur if he tried. 

  
“Merlin?” Arthur whispered in his ear, giving Merlin chills. 

“Yes?”

“Are you drunk?” 

“Yes I am,” Merlin beamed proudly, drinking his vodka, leaning back in his chair, locking his ankles together, but still somehow rubbing his left foot up and down Arthur’s shin. 

“Me too,” Arthur laughed, nodding his head and shrugging. 

 

 

**Monday**

 

Arthur and Merlin sat in Merlin’s -- no, their, Merlin reminded himself -- kitchen, across from each other with their hands wrapped around mugs. Arthur played with the rim, circling his finger around it, as the clock, a gift from Gaius several Christmas’ ago, tick tick tocked over the silence between them. This was the ‘talk’ they both knew they needed. Damage control, Arthur liked to call it when they fought. 

The tension was thick between them, unspoken words that longed to be said. It wasn’t awkward, it was just -- not them. 

“Is this what you want?” Arthur looked up from his coffee. He looked nervous, as if he was expecting Merlin to throw him out with nothing but the clothes on his back. He did deserve it, after all. 

“Huh?” 

“Us. You want an us, right? This wasn’t just a drunken fuck, was it?”

“Arthur, stop working yourself up,”

“You’ve not answered my question,” Arthur kissed his teeth. He knew it annoyed Merlin and he probably did it for that reason. Merlin ran a hand through his own hair. Of course it wasn’t a drunken one night stand. Arthur had always been a worrier, though. 

 

“Why didn’t you come back, Arthur? After we got rid of Sefa. I know you heard about it. I know you were told.”

“It wasn’t that simple, Merlin. I couldn’t just drop everything and run,”

“Why not? You did it to me,” Merlin sounded affronted. 

“That’s not fair, Merlin, and you know it,” Arthur scratched his nose then rubbed his eyes, looking weary and exhausted. “I had things to take care of before I came back. Promises to keep. And I thought you may have been better of without me,”

“Things to take care of? What’s that supposed to mean? Did you have somebody else?”

 

“No, nothing like that,” He shook his head briskly, offering his hand to Merlin, who took it with caution. He couldn’t get mad if Arthur had found somebody else, could he? They weren’t together at that point, were they? He wasn’t sure how he’d feel. What if Arthur had left a string of broken hearts everywhere he visited and Merlin got death threats from angry men with huge muscles and black belts in every martial art man knows? It was plausible, if he thought about it. “My manager, you know I said I worked in the florists? Well my manager, Alice, she had cancer. And no family to take care of her. They’re all in Scotland. Happy ending as her family found her and took her home, but I had to find someone else for the shop. It was her life’s work, I couldn’t just sell it and move on,”

“You could have called,” 

“And said what?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know ‘ _Hey Merlin, I’m coming home but my manager needs my help first_ ’? Or maybe ‘ _Hey Merlin, why don’t you come up here for a few weeks_ ’?” 

Arthur took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes again. Taking a look at him now, Merlin realised how different Arthur looked. He was thinner, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was cut shorter than it had been since he was fourteen and had somehow (Merlin had nothing to do with this) got bubblegum in his hair. Merlin knew he probably wasn’t eating right. 

“Mum told me I should ring you,” Arthur said, finally, sounding so small and broken. 

“You’ve been talking to my mum?”

 

“I’ve been living with her since August,” Merlin’s mother? He’d been living with Merlin’s mother? That wasn’t what Merlin was picturing when he thought Arthur had somebody else. He’d left Merlin for Hunith? “Oh God, no, nothing like that! She tracked me down - she only lives 20 minutes away from the florists. Her friend, the one with the,” Arthur gestured to mean big nose “Recognised me from that photo we took in Prague. She’s got in framed on her mantelpiece,”

 

“So my mother’s had you in her house since August, but she’s been calling me every Monday night lying to me?” Merlin snatched his hand back. He almost felt sick. His own mother lying to him to protect Arthur! He assumed it was to protect. Why would Hunith lie to him? 

Merlin stood up, pushing the barstool back until it fell. He stormed into the living room, switching on the television. How apropos - Jeremy Kyle. He had a brief image in his mind of himself and Arthur on The Jeremy Kyle Show. Would they do lie detector tests? Why was he even thinking about that? He’d never offer his issues to the nation on a plate. 

 

“Merlin, will you listen?” Arthur questioned, quietly. Merlin almost felt sorry for him; he sounded so belittled. Merlin couldn’t think of another word other than ‘sad’.

“Are you going to lie to me?” 

“No, Merlin. I’ve never lied to you,”

“No, you get my mother to do it instead,” Merlin turned and glared at Arthur, hoping that looks could kill. Then revive straight after. He didn’t want Arthur dead. Arthur trudged into the room, sitting on the seat next to Merlin. He played with his own hands, nervously, worried that he’d say one too many wrong things if he opened his mouth again. 

  
_This_ , Merlin thought, _was going to take a while_. 

 

 

**May**

  
**Sunday**  

 

Arthur slept on Merlin’s chest while Merlin stroked his hair. He was back. Arthur was back. And Merlin was happy. 

He found himself smiling. 

“I love you,” He whispered, combing through Arthur’s hair with his fingers, slowly falling to sleep to the sound of Arthur’s breathing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think. :)


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